


Turnabout Ex

by Jackdaw816



Series: Turnabout Torchwood [1]
Category: Torchwood, 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney Series Spoilers, Humor, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27764269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackdaw816/pseuds/Jackdaw816
Summary: Jack Harkness is the best defense attorney in Cardiff. Or at least he will be if he can make it through his first case
Relationships: Jack Harkness/John Hart, John Hart/Other(s), Suzie Costello & Jack Harkness
Series: Turnabout Torchwood [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2031046
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	Turnabout Ex

**Author's Note:**

> So I can't believe I actually did it, but here, Torchwood/Ace Attorney AU! Today's case: The First Turnabout
> 
> Each fic in the series will follow a case in the Ace Attorney Trilogy. The overall plot will follow very closely to the games so warning now for extreme spoilers! But if you don't know anything about the games, you should still be able to read this fairly easily. And yes, Ianto is going to be Edgeworth, I have (almost) every role cast and I'm very excited! For now, enjoy, and I apologize in advance

_*gasp*... *gasp*... Dammit! ...Why me? I can't get caught... Not like this! I-I've gotta find someone to pin this on... Someone like... him! I'll make it look like_ **_he_ ** _did it!_

**_August 3, 9:47 AM_ **

**_District Court_ **

**_Defendant Lobby No. 2_ **

To say Jack wasn’t nervous would be a lie. He was incredibly nervous. He was in his late thirties, but this drastic of a career reset made him feel like he was eighteen all over again. And he had been a little terror when he was eighteen. Luckily, that was the past. Now, Jack Harkness, defense attorney, was ready to take on the world. But he wasn’t quite ready to take on his ex’s murder charge.

_“Jack, I need a lawyer.”_

_“What did you do this time? And why is it my problem?”_

_“They’re saying I killed her.”_

_“Killed who?”_

_“My girlfriend. Jack, I know what you’re thinking, but I didn’t do it.”_

_“That’s what you would say even if you had done it.”_

_“I swear I didn’t do it. I swear on_ Gray _.”_

_“...if you’re lying-”_

_“Jack. I’m not. I don’t know how else to convince you.”_

_“Alright. Don’t make me regret this.”_

“Harkness!” Suzie’s voice rang sharply in the filtered air of the lobby, and Jack snapped out of his memory. Suzie Costello, head of Costello & Co. Law Offices, Jack’s mentor, and his boss (despite being a decade his junior), stood before him, arms crossed. Jack jolted.

“Hey, chief,” he joked lightly, trying to hide that she’d rattled him. Luckily, she seemed fairly relaxed. Of course, she wasn’t the one with a man’s life in her hands.

“Glad I made it on time,” Suzie said, looking him over. “I’d hate to miss your first trial.” Jack smiled, masking his nerves. “I’m impressed. Not everyone takes on a murder trial right off the bat like this. It says a lot about you and your client as well.” Jack let out a short bark of a laugh, and Suzie raised an eyebrow.

“Actually, it’s because I owe him a favor,” Jack admitted. 

“A favor,” Suzie said slowly. “You mean, you knew the defendant before this case?” Jack nodded, smiling tightly.

“Yes. We have… a history. We were partners years ago; he’s one of my oldest friends,” Jack said. He took a deep breath. “And he’s one of the reasons I became an attorney.” Suzie’s eyes went wide.

“Well, that’s news to me,” she said, sounding curious. Jack chuckled nervously and looked at the floor. He _really_ did not want to get into his history with Suzie. She’d helped him move on with his life, and so he felt obliged to keep her out of his past.

“I have to help him out. I owe him that much,” Jack said firmly. They’d had their conflicts in the past, but for once, his former partner was telling the truth. That was enough of a change for Jack to listen. As an attorney, it was his job to seek out the truth and get his client proven innocent. Shouldn’t be too hard.

“Get your bloody hands off me; I’m coming for fuck’s sake!”

“...isn’t that your client screaming over there?” Suzie said, suppressing a grin. Jack sighed.

“Yeah, that’s him,” he muttered. Across the lobby, John Hart was glaring at a bailiff as they removed his cuffs. Despite spending the night in a jail cell and being accused of murder, John looked no worse for wear. In fact, he looked almost the same as the last time Jack had seen him, years ago, before he set his own path straight. A few more lines around his eyes, but he hadn’t ditched his flamboyant jacket. It was almost a comfort.

“Jack!” John said cheerfully as he crossed toward them, rubbing his wrists. “These louts know nothing about the art of restraints.” His eyes flickered over Suzie, taking her in appreciatively. “Pretty friend.”

“Pretty boss,” Suzie corrected, offering her hand. John shook it, then kissed the back before she could pull away. She rolled her eyes. “Suzie Costello.”

“Charmed. So, you’re my lawyer?” John asked, an uncharacteristic note of worry in his tone.

“I am,” Jack cut in. Normally, they would have met more than ten minutes before the trial, but the whole thing had moved so quickly. Good thing Jack could improvise. John raised an eyebrow.

“When did you become a bloody lawyer?” he asked. Jack was about to answer when John shook his head. “Nope, never mind. I don’t wanna know how green you are.” Accurate, unfortunately. John met his eyes. “Do you think you can get me off?” It was a testament to John’s nerves that the question wasn’t followed by the raise of an eyebrow or an innuendo. For once in his life, John was scared. 

“I’ll try my best,” Jack answered honestly, laying a comforting hand on John’s shoulder. Inside, his emotions swirled like a maelstrom. Maybe he’d bitten off more than he could chew. After all, the world was convinced that John was the guilty party, the jilted ex. His priors hadn’t helped the matter - a couple of times drunk and disorderly, and a case of aggravated assault where he’d pled guilty and escaped with a few years probation.

But while Jack had no doubt John had committed those crimes, he was almost certain he hadn’t committed this one. John was a bastard, but murder? In another life, maybe. But not here and not now. John was innocent, and Jack was going to prove it. Or John would die trying.

**_August 3, 10:00 AM_ **

**_District Court_ **

**_Courtroom No. 2_ **

“The court is now in session for the trial of Mr. John Hart,” the judge decreed with a slam of his gavel. He was a fairly young-looking Welshman, solidly-built with a kind smile. Jack suddenly realized that he didn’t know his name. He couldn’t see a nameplate, and he wasn’t about to ask Suzie. He’d just fudge around it.

“The prosecution is ready, your honor,” the prosecutor said. At least Jack remembered _his_ name. Idris Hopper. He was young too, even younger than the judge, or maybe he was just baby-faced. Either way, Jack suddenly felt ancient. Suzie nudged him lightly, and he realized it was his turn.

“The, um, defense is ready, Your Honor,” Jack said. He could feel the gaze of the entire courtroom upon him, and he swallowed nervously.

“Ahem,” the judge said, looking down on Jack. “Mr. Harkness. This is your first trial, is it not?” 

“Yes, Your Honor,” Jack said, ignoring how John was mouthing swears at him from across the courtroom. Maybe he should have let Suzie take the case. But no, she had her own duties to perform. Jack had to step up to the plate sometime. Might as well be now.

“I’m, um, a little nervous,” Jack added, smiling coyly. He might have been the (second) oldest person in the courtroom, but he could still charm with the best of them. Unfortunately, the judge didn’t seem impressed.

“Your conduct during this trial will decide the fate of your client. Murder is a serious charge,” the judge said as if Jack were a first-day law student and not a man who’d stood trial for murder himself. “For your client’s sake, I hope you can control your nerves.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Jack replied, unsure of what else to say. Luckily, it seemed to be the right answer. The judge looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Mr. Harkness, given the circumstances, I think we should have a test to ascertain your readiness,” the judge said, nodding slightly.

“Yes, Your Honor,” Jack said because how could he say no? It _was_ a good idea. Even though the thought of being tested set his hands shaking. He swallowed a swallow that was more of a gulp.

“This test will consist of a few simple questions,” the judge said, expression serious. “Answer them clearly and concisely. Please state the name of the defendant in this case.” Jack let out the breath he was holding. That was easy.

“The defendant… is me, right?” Jack said, the words coming out much weaker than he would have liked.

“Harkness!” Suzie hissed. “Have you completely lost your mind?” He smiled half-heartedly. “Focus! The defendant is the person on trial! You’re his lawyer, idiot!” Jack wrinkled his forehead.

“Um.” He was the defense though, wasn’t he? And then his brain woke up. Fuck, he’d just made a fool of himself in front of Suzie. And the judge, and the prosecution, and John. Not that John really counted. “Oh yeah, right!” He chuckled nervously, and Suzie stamped on his foot. Jack bit back a yelp.

“This is no laughing matter! You did pass the bar, didn’t you?” Suzie scolded. Jack flinched, and the judge cleared his throat.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear your answer,” the judge said, sounding genuinely apologetic. Oh, thank fuck. Free redo. “I’ll ask once more. Please state the name of the defendant in this case.”

“The defendant?” Jack repeated, stalling slightly to make sure he was completely certain. “That’s John Hart, Your Honor.” Jack spotted John rolling his eyes, but the judge nodded astutely.

“Correct.” The judge smiled gently. “Just keep your wits about you, and you’ll do fine.” Jack smiled back, but suddenly, the judge’s face was stony again. “Next question. This is a murder trial. Tell me, what’s the victim’s name?”

The victim. John’s girlfriend. A woman Jack had never met and never would. But he did know her name. After all, he’d read the case report cover to cover so many times. It was… wait… shit. He’d forgotten. Suzie noticed his hesitation and nudged him roughly.

“Jack!” Suzie snapped, and that she’d used his first name was a bad, bad sign. “Are you absolutely _sure_ you’re up for this? You don’t even know the victim’s name!?”

“Of course, I know the victim’s name!” Jack snapped back. Then he rubbed at the back of his neck. “I, um, just forgot… temporarily.” Suzie looked like she was going to make him the next victim.

“I think I feel a migraine coming on,” she said, rubbing at her temple. “Look, the defendant’s name is listed in the court record. You can check it anytime, okay? Remember to check it often. Do it for me, please. I’m begging you.” 

Jack grinned and nodded. Okay, court record. That should be easy enough. Just as he flipped it open, the judge spoke up.

“Mr. Harkness. Let’s hear your answer.” Crap. Without looking up, Jack nodded, scanning the court record for the relevant name. It’d be on the autopsy report, right? “Who is the victim in this case?” Jack shuffled through the pages of the autopsy report.

“Oh, um, wasn’t it Ms-” There! The name! Jack scanned it then blurted, “Diamond!” There was a moment of awkward silence until-

“You’re fucking kidding me!” John called from across the courtroom.

“The defendant will refrain from such outbursts,” the judge ordered. “And watch his language!” John slumped back in his chair, arms crossed, muttering something certainly vulgar under his breath. “Now, Mr. Harkness. The person in question was a victim of murder, not a victim of ill-conceived naming.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Jack said. He could feel Suzie’s disapproving gaze on him as he bent over to read the autopsy report more closely. Oh. In his haste, he had misread the name. To be fair, it was a fairly odd name. God, she was young. Not creepy-young, she was in her late twenties but young enough that Jack felt a sudden wave of grief. 

“I ask you again,” the judge said, tone tired. “Who is the victim in this case?”

“Um… the victim’s name is Diana Amond,” Jack said, entirely uncertain he was pronouncing it right. Considering John didn’t shout out again, he figured he was close enough. Or John didn’t want to be held in contempt of court. The judge nodded.

“Correct. Now, tell me, what was the cause of death? She died because she was…?” Jack sincerely hoped this would be the last question. But at least he had the autopsy report already open. 

Ms. Amond died three days ago, July 31, between four and five p.m. The cause surprised him. He would have thought strangling. John had always been a hands-on kinda guy. But then again, allegedly, John didn’t do it.

“She was struck once, by a blunt object,” Jack said. He glanced over to John and saw his friend flinch. John had never shied away from violence, but this was different. It was always different when the victims were close to you.

“Correct,” the judge said with a nod, oblivious to any emotionally-charged moment playing out. “You’ve answered all of my questions; I see no reason why we shouldn’t proceed.” He looked down at Jack. “You seem much more relaxed, Mr. Harkness. Good for you.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Jack said, smiling a smile that he did not feel. He certainly didn’t _feel_ relaxed. He was even tenser now, even more aware of the weight he’d taken upon himself.

“Well, then…” the judge said looking over the courtroom. “First, a question for the prosecution.” He looked to the prosecution’s side of the courtroom, and Jack allowed himself to relax, at least in body. At this rate, the stress would have him going gray within the year. “Mr. Hopper?” The prosecutor jolted slightly and nodded.

“Yes, Your Honor?” Hopper said.

“As Mr. Harkness just told us, the victim was struck with a blunt object. Would you explain to the court just what that ‘object’ was?” the judge asked. Hopper nodded. 

“The murder weapon was this statue of a dog,” he said, retrieving it with a gloved hand and moving to present it to the court. The statue was fairly small; Hopper was able to hold the base in one hand easily. But the dog, or rather poodle, itself was made of what looked like solid metal. “It was found lying on the floor, next to the victim.”

“I see…” the judge said, eying it oddly. Jack couldn’t blame him. The victim had some eccentric taste in household decor. Although, if she had been dating John, it’s fairly obvious that her taste hadn’t been great to begin with. “The court accepts it into evidence.”

“Harkness,” Suzie said, startling him although he’d deny it. “Be sure to pay attention to any evidence added during the trial. That evidence is the only ammunition you have in court.” The information was rudimentary, but given how he’d performed thus far, he was grateful to have it. And he was grateful to have her by his side, a solid yet condescending presence.

“Mr. Hopper, the prosecution may call its first witness,” the judge said after a bang of his gavel. Back behind his desk, Hopper cleared his throat.

“The prosecution calls the defendant, Mr. Hart, to the stand,” he said, casting a scornful look John’s way. John noticed and winked at him. 

“Uh, chief, what do I do now?” Jack whispered discreetly to Suzie, feeling a sudden rush of panic.

“Pay attention. You don’t want to miss any information that may help your client’s case,” Suzie responded, voice unbelievably calm. “You’ll get your chance to respond to the prosecution later, so be ready.” Suzie looked away from Jack and out toward John. She grimaced slightly. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t say anything… unfortunate.” 

Jack had to bite back a laugh. Now that was a futile hope. Jack just hoped that whatever chaos John wrought, he would be able to tame it. As long as he didn’t lose his temper, he should be fine. John took the stand, smirking innocently like he wasn’t on trial for murder.

“Ahem,” Hopper said. “Mr. Hart. Isn’t it true that the victim had recently dumped you?” Jack’s eyes went wide. John had _not_ told him that. From the look on John’s face, he hadn’t known it either. He recovered quickly, expression morphing from surprise to affront.

“Watch it! We were great together,” John said, intentionally avoiding the question. He spread his hands with a flourish. “We were Romeo and Juliet, Cleopatra and Mark Antony!” Jack’s jaw dropped. Um, didn’t they all die? John pressed on. “I wasn’t dumped!” And it was here that John seemed genuinely flustered. “She just wasn’t taking my calls. Or seeing me… ever. What’s it to you, anyway!” Jack almost felt bad for him. Not many people could handle a lover like John, selfish, but charming, protective, but quick-to-anger, intelligent, yet often unwise. 

Then there was his polyamory, something Jack shared. Far too many people saw it as a warning label of ‘cheater’ or as permission to cheat themselves. It pissed Jack off, but there wasn’t much he could do about it besides hope to find a partner who accepted him as he was.

Maybe that was why John had clung so hard to their relationship. He was scared that he wouldn’t be able to find anyone else to be himself with. And no matter how serious his relationship with this Diana had been, now it was just another dead end.

“Mr. Hart, what you describe is generally what we mean by ‘dumped,’” Hopper said snidely. “In fact, she had completely abandoned you… and was seeing other men! She had just returned from overseas with one of them the day before the murder!” John stiffened. His eye twitched, and Jack knew he was holding back the urge to lash out

“And how do you know that?” John asked, tone cool. “You couldn’t exactly ask her, now could you?” Hopper recoiled slightly, and Jack held back a grin. But then Hopper recovered.

“Her new lover went to the police when he heard about the murder,” Hopper said simply, staring John down. “He told us about the trip and provided an alibi for his whereabouts at the time of the murder. It checked out, as did the alibis of all her other paramours. You’re the only loose end, Mr. Hart.” John snarled softly. Uh oh. 

“Do you have proof of Ms. Amond’s arrival back in the country?” the judge asked. Hopper nodded and held up a passport.

“Your Honor, the victim’s passport. According to this, she was in Tokyo until the day before she died.” More evidence. Not in John’s favor, but not really against it either. Hopper presented the passport to the judge, and he looked it over. 

“Hmm…” the judge said, carefully examining it. He handed it back to Hopper, and the passport was laid beside the murder weapon. “Indeed, she appears to have returned the day before the murder.” Jack watched John’s face, but if he had any reaction, he was keeping it hidden. Hopper cleared his throat.

“The victim was a model but did not have a large income.” Hopper grimaced. “It appeared that she had several ‘sugar daddies.’” Jack’s eyes bulged. Oh, he did not just hear the term sugar daddy in goddamn court. It was like hearing someone talk about their taxes in a strip club, except with an extra layer of moral impurity.

“I’m sorry, what?” the judge asked, face confused. Jack wished he had his innocence. On the stand, John snickered. Wait, if she had sugar daddies, did that mean John- _Nope!_ Jack was not going to even entertain the (admittedly, likely) possibility. Not without a lot more alcohol and a little less hope for humanity.

“Older men, who gave her money and gifts,” Hopper explained, his disdain unmistakable. “She took their money and used it to support her lifestyle.” He smiled at John condescendingly. “We can clearly see what kind of woman this Ms. Amond was. Tell me, Mr. Hart, what do you think of her now?” Suzie grabbed Jack’s shoulder.

“Harkness, I don’t think you want him to answer that question,” she said lowly. Jack nodded. John had a way of running his mouth in all the wrong directions. If he spoke now, he’d probably end up in a fistfight with the prosecutor. Jack needed to stop him. He slammed his hands on the desk dramatically.

“My client had no idea the victim was seeing other men!” Jack declared He punctuated his next statement with the point of a finger. “That question is irrelevant to this case!” He had no idea what he was saying, but it felt right, so he went with it.

Hopper winced, sweat beading on his forehead. Ah, hah, Jack had him cornered. So of course it was then that John opened his mouth.

“That cheatin’ bitch,” he growled, mostly to himself but loud enough that the entire court could hear him

“Language, Mr. Hart,” the judge said, frowning. “I will hold you in contempt of court if there is another outburst!” Apparently, that was enough to make John hold his tongue, although it came a little too late. 

“I believe the accused’s motive is clear to everyone,” Hopper said pointedly, a snide grin stretching across his face. Were all prosecutors this smarmy? Jack sure hoped not. That would get real annoying real quick. 

“Yes, quite,” the judge agreed. Jack flinched. Of course, John was pissing off the judge, he pissed everyone off. But now, it might cost him his life.

“Next question!” Hopper said quickly. He met John’s eyes. “You went to the victim’s flat on the day of the murder, did you not?” John swallowed nervously and looked away. “Well, did you or did you not?”

“Well, maybe I did, and maybe I didn’t,” John said, standing tall, head cocked jauntily, a weak cover for his nerves. Jack sighed. He definitely did. Now would that be better to admit now or have John apply his well-honed skill of lying blatantly? Jack stared John down, trying to send him a signal. He was a little bit psychic, after all. _Lie like a dog, John._

“Um, well, see, it’s like this,” John said, stammering a bit as his mind raced. “I don’t remember.” Good enough lie, but judging by Hopper’s face, he didn’t believe it.

“You ‘don’t remember’?” Hopper said condescendingly. “Well then, we’ll just have to remind you!” Jack had a bad feeling as Hopper smiled. “We have a witness that can prove that he _did_ go to the victim’s apartment that day!”

“Well, that simplifies matters,” the judge said. “Who is your witness?”

“The man who found the victim’s body,” Hopper said. “Just before making the gruesome discovery…” He pointed a finger at John accusingly. “He saw the defendant fleeing the scene of the crime!” The crowd burst out in gasps and murmurs, and the judge slammed his gavel to quiet them.

“Order!” he called. “Order in the court! Mr. Hopper, the prosecution may call its witness.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Hopper said. Jack felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Oh, this was bad. “On the day of the murder, my witness was selling newspapers at the victim’s building. Please bring Mr. Bernie Harris to the stand!”

It wasn’t long before the bailiff brought in this ‘Bernie Harris.’ John shot Jack a pleading glance as he was led back to his seat, but all Jack could do was shrug. It was all up in the air at this point. He would make or break his case on this testimony.

As Mr. Harris took the stand, Jack was dismayed to find that he was barely an adult, nineteen, maybe twenty. He was wiry with brown hair and an overall scruffy appearance. He didn’t look like a murderer. But if John was truly innocent, then well, he had to be.

“Mr. Harris, you sell newspaper subscriptions, is this correct?” Harris shifted awkwardly, hands clasped together, smiling a smile with a lot of teeth and nothing behind it.

“Oh, oh, yes! Newspapers, yes!” Harris said. Jack frowned. The witness was nervous. Maybe he could take advantage of that.

“Mr. Harris, you may proceed with your testimony,” the judge said. “Please tell the court what you saw on the day of the murder.”

“I was going door-to-door, selling subscriptions, when I saw a man fleeing a flat. I thought he must be in a hurry because he left the door half-open behind him. Thinking it strange, I looked inside the flat.” Harris flinched, and his next words were halting. “Then I saw her lying there… A woman… not moving... dead!” The crowd murmured, and Harris took a deep breath before continuing. “I quailed in fright and found myself unable to go inside. I thought to call the police immediately! However, the phone in her flat wasn’t working. I went to a nearby park and found a public phone. I remember the time exactly: it was 1:00 PM.” He looked over at John and his face shifted with an emotion Jack couldn’t define. “The man who ran was, without a doubt, the defendant sitting right over there.”

“Hmm…” the judge said once Harris finished. Jack felt a sinking sort of dread. How could he defend John against a testimony like that? “Incidentally, why wasn’t the phone in the victim’s flat working?”

“Your Honor, at the time of the murder, there was a blackout in the building,” Hopper cut in. 

“Aren’t phones supposed to work during a blackout?” the judge asked.

“Yes, Your Honor,” Hopper responded quickly. “However, some cordless phones do not function normally. The phone that Mr. Harris used was one of those. I have a record of the blackout, for your perusal.” Hopper passed a paper to the judge, and reluctantly, to Jack. 

According to the record, the electricity in Ms. Amond’s building was out from noon to six on the day of the murder, verifying Harris’ testimony. Shit. But something felt off, although Jack couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“The chain of events is clear, Your Honor,” Hopper said. “The defendant visited the victim after her return from Tokyo, perhaps to try and win her back. It was then that he learned of her alleged infidelity and grew angry.” Hopper grinned innocently before continuing. “Maybe he was drunk, maybe he lost his temper. Either way, his motive was clear.” Jack gritted his teeth. Fucking priors, easy ammunition to cast John in a bad light (albeit one he’d earned.) “He grabbed the nearest blunt object and killed her with one blow. The deed done, he panicked and fled, unaware of Mr. Harris’ presence.”

“Yes, that makes sense,” the judge said, eyes wide. Hopper was grinning, but Jack was looking at John. His arms were crossed and his hands were white-knuckled, gripping the fabric of his coat so tightly it might tear. That was the only visible sign of his panic; his face was a carefully constructed mask of casual indifference. 

But was his panic at being caught or being framed? 

“Now, Mr. Harkness…” Jack startled.

“Yes!” Jack boomed, a little too enthusiastically. “Er, yes, Your Honor?” he corrected himself, calming himself down.

“You may begin your cross-examination,” the judge said. Jack blinked.

“Cross-examination, Your Honor?” Jack repeated, feeling his nerves rise again.

“Alright, Harkness, this is it. The real deal,” Suzie spoke up. Jack turned to face her.

“What exactly am I supposed to do?” Jack asked. Suzie’s look was deadly enough to drop a horse. Jack expected he’d be getting a pop quiz on court procedure after it was all over. Yikes but fair. John deserved better than what Jack was giving.

“You expose the lies in the testimony the witness just gave!” Suzie said, eyes glinting with just a hint of deviousness. Jack stared at her, baffled.

“Lies! What? He was lying?” Jack said, suddenly aware of how green he sounded. Suzie put her head in her palm.

“Your client is innocent, right?” After a moment, Jack nodded. He had to put his feelings aside. He would never win the case if he kept entertaining the thought that John really had done it. John was innocent. He had to be. “Then that witness must have lied in his testimony!”

“How do I prove it?” Jack asked, jaw set. 

“Compare the witness’s testimony to the evidence at hand; there’s bound to be a contradiction in there. Once you’ve found the contradicting evidence, present it and rub it in the witness’s face!” Suzie smiled with just a hint of malice. “Give ‘em hell, Jack.” Jack nodded and turned to face Harris. Alright, here went nothing.

He had to find a contradiction in the evidence. That meant the autopsy report, the poodle statue, the passport, and the blackout record. One of those had proof that Harris was lying. And Jack had no clue which one. He ran over the testimony in his head. What would be the easiest detail to prove Harris was lying about? Maybe if he pressed him on a few details, he’d slip up.

“Mr. Harris,” Jack said calmly. “Isn’t a man leaving a flat a common sight? I find it odd that you would take notice of him.” _Please don’t mention the coat, please don’t mention the coat, please don’t mention the coat._

“Er, heh,” Harris stammered. “I don’t know. He just seemed strange to me, that’s all. Like he was mad and yet frightened at the same time. Just like.. a criminal fleeing the scene of a crime!” Shit, that backfired.

“The defense requests that the witness refrain from conjecture!” Jack snapped.

“Of course,” Hopper replied calmly. “What the witness means is that the man he saw looked suspicious.” Of course he did, suspicious-looking was John summed up. But suspicious didn’t mean guilty.

“You stated earlier that the phone in Ms. Amond’s flat wasn’t working, correct?” Jack said, pressing on.

“Yes,” Harris said quickly. “I mean, no, no it wasn’t. Right.”

“But you said you didn’t go into the apartment…” Jack slammed a hand on the table. “Or did you!?” Harris flinched but recovered quickly.

“Oh, oh, that? I can explain that!” There was an unmistakable note of relief in Harris’ voice. “There was a cordless phone on a shelf in the entryway. I reached inside and tried using that to call.” Drat. It made sense.

“Why didn’t you call the police on your mobile?” Jack asked. Everyone had a mobile nowadays, and a person his age wouldn’t let theirs leave their sight.

“I’d left it at home; I’d forgotten to charge it the night before,” Harris explained. “And, being the middle of the afternoon, there was no answer at the nearby flats.” Of course, in the middle of the afternoon, everyone would be- Wait. The middle of the afternoon? Something was fishy.

“What time did you call again?” Jack asked, thumbing through the autopsy report.

“I remember the time exactly; it was 1:00 PM,” Harris said confidently. Jack found the right spot in the autopsy report and grinned. Gotcha.

“Objection!” Jack shouted, his finger pointed dramatically. Harris flinched. “You found the body at 1:00 PM. You’re sure?”

‘Yes. It was 1:00 PM, for certain,” Harris repeated. Jack slammed his hands on the table.

“Frankly, I find that hard to believe!” Jack said accusingly. He picked up the autopsy report and tapped it with the back of his hand. “Your statement directly contradicts the autopsy report. The autopsy notes the time of death at sometime after 4 PM. There was nobody to… er... no ‘body’ to find at 1:00 PM!” Jack laid the report down and put his hands on his hips, grinning cockily. “How do you explain this three-hour gap?”

Harris’s eyes went wide and he started to sweat. “Oh, that! Oh, er…”

“Objection!” Hopper shouted, cutting his client off. “This is trivial! The witness merely forgot the time!” The judge shook his head.

“After his testimony, I find that hard to believe,” the judge said. Jack cheered internally. “Mr. Harris. Why were you so certain that you found the body at 1:00 PM?”

“I… er… well, I…” Harris stuttered. “Gee, that’s a really good question!”

“Great job, Harkness!” Suzie said. “Way to put him on the spot. That’s all you have to do - point out contradictions!” She grinned. “Lies always beget more lies. See though one, and their whole story falls apart!” Jack found himself grinning as well. He could deal with liars; John had trained him well for that.

“Wait!” Harris shouted. “I remember now!” Jack turned back to face him, confident. Harris was lying, and more lies couldn’t fix the hole he’d dug for himself.

“Would you care to give you testimony again?” the judge asked. Harris nodded.

“You see, when I found the body, I heard the time. There was a voice saying the time… it was probably coming from the television. Oh, but it was three hours off, wasn’t it? I guess the victim must have been watching a video of a taped program. That’s why I thought it was 1:00 PM! Terribly sorry about the misunderstanding,” Harris finished, smiling.

“Hmm, I see,” the judge said, voice carefully neutral. “You heard a voice saying the time on a taped program. Mr. Harkness, you may cross-examine the witness.”

“Harkness, you know what to do!” Suzie said confidently. Jack nodded.

“I’ve got this one,” he said. His lie was so obvious this time; it was pathetic. Jack found the evidence he needed before calling “Objection!” He had to admit, the pointing of his finger was fun. “Hold it right there!” Jack declared. “The prosecution has said that there was a blackout at the time of the discovery!” He held up the blackout record. “And this record proves it!” Harris shifted awkwardly, eyes going wide. Jack didn’t relent. “You couldn’t have heard a television… or a video!”

“Gah!” Harris cried, definitely panicked. “I… well… urk!”

“The defense has a point,” the judge said with a nod. “Do you have an explanation for this, Mr. Harris?”

“No, I… I find it quite puzzling myself! Quite!” Harris said. Jack grinned. He had him now; the case was as good as won, John was as good as free. “Wait!” Shit, spoke too soon. “I remember now.” Of course, he did. Jack sighed softly.

“Mr. Harris? The court would prefer to hear an accurate testimony from the very beginning,” the judge said, shaking his head. “These constant corrections are harming your credibility. That, and you seem rather… distraught.” Distraught was a nice way to put it.

“My apologies, Your Honor,” Harris said. “It…. er, it must have been the shock of finding the body!” Jack resisted the urge to scoff. 

“Very well, Mr. Harris,” the judge rumbled. Jack could tell he was growing weary. “Let’s hear your testimony once more please.” Hopefully, for the last time.

“Actually, I didn’t ‘hear’ the time, I ‘saw’ it!” Harris corrected. “There was a table clock in the flat, wasn’t there! Yeah, the murder weapon! The killer used it to hit the victim! That must have been what I saw.”

“You saw a clock?” the judge said, his skepticism well-contained. “I guess that would explain it.” He nodded. “The defense may cross-examine the witness.”

“Gladly,” Jack said, not bothering to contain his own skepticism. Harris was just blatantly lying now. Table clock? Bullshit. “Mr. Harris, that you now claim to have heard the time instead of seeing it strikes me as a very suspicious mistake.”

“Yes, I can see how you’d be a little doubtful,” Harris said, smiling innocently. “I’m really sorry. I only just remembered the table clock!”

“And that’s another thing!” Jack said, tone almost snappish. “Was there a clock at the scene?”

“Yes, it was the murder weapon!” Harris replied, agitated yet again.

“Objection!” Jack cried with a point of a finger and the slam of his hands. “The murder weapon wasn’t a clock.” He waved a hand at the evidence table and the metal poodle resting there. “It was this statue! Now, how is this supposed to be a clock?” Harris flinched and let out a shout.

“You with your ‘objections,’ and your ‘evidence,’” Harris stammered, one hand clenched in front of him. “Just who do you think you are!?”

Just answer the question, Mr. Harris,” Jack said, leaning on his desk.

“Hey, I … I saw it there, okay! That’s a clock!” Harris was shaking, but Hopper chimed in. Fucker. Jack knew it was his job, but… fucker.

“Your Honor! If I may…” Hopper looked as nervous as his client.

“Yes, Mr. Hopper,” the judge said, brow furrowed. Hopper took a breath.

“As the witness stated, this statue is indeed a clock,” he verified. Jack blinked in surprise. “The neck is a switch. You just tilt it, and it says the time out loud. As it doesn’t look like a clock, I submitted it as a statue. My apologies.” Jack frowned. Hopper definitely knew. But he couldn’t prove it, and it wasn’t like it mattered now. He’d just have to roll with it.

“I see,” the judge said with a nod. “So the murder weapon was a table clock after all. Well, Mr. Harkness? It appears that the witness’s testimony was correct. This is a clock. Do you have any problems with his testimony now?”

“I guess not. There was a clock on the scene, so, no problem,” Jack said. Suzie smacked him over the head.

“Harkness! Are you out of your goddamn mind!?” Suzie hissed. Jack rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. Suzie was stronger than she looked. Ouch. “The witness couldn’t have possibly known it was a clock just by seeing it!” Suzie stepped closer, and her voice dropped down to a whisper, although her intensity actually increased. “He said himself, he never entered the flat! It was in his testimony!” Which meant Jack could call him on his bullshit. He grinned.

“Is something the matter?” the judge said. “Does the defense have anything to add?”

“Yes, yes, I do!” Jack said, his confidence back. “Your Honor, there is a gaping hole in the witness’s testimony! The only way he could have known the weapon was a clock is to hold it in his hand. Yet the witness testified that he never entered the flat! Clearly, a contradiction!”

“Hmm…. indeed!” the judge agreed. Jack grinned.

“The witness knew it was a clock because he went into the flat!” Jack declared. “He pointed a finger at Harris. “You’re lying! You were inside the flat on the day of the murder!”

“Oh yeah?” Harris retorted. “Prove it! Prove I went in there!”

“I’ll do better than that! I can prove you were the one who killed her!” The gallery burst out into murmurs, but Jack ignored them. “You struck her with the clock, and the shock of the blow triggered the clock’s voice! That was the sound you heard!” The murmurs grew in volume and intensity until the judge banged his gavel.

”Order in the court!” he called, and the noise subsided. “Intriguing. Please continue, Mr. Harkness.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Jack said, trying not to openly beam. He had him now! “Mr. Harris. The sound must have left quite an impression on you. Understandable since the murder weapon spoke just as you hit the victim! That voice was burned into your mind. That’s why you were so certain about the time!”

“Objection!” Hopper called. Crap. “What’s the meaning of this?” he stammered. “This is all baseless conjecture!”

“Baseless?” Jack scoffed. “Just look at the witness’s face!” Sure enough, Harris’s expression was a mixture of rage, fear, and just plain ole shock. Certainly not the face of an innocent man. (In the defendant’s chair, John was beaming with only a trace of malice.)

“Ngh… grrrah!” was all Harris could manage. Jack grinned. He loved rendering people speechless.

“Would the victim care to elaborate?” the judge said coldly. “Did you strike the victim with the clock?”

“I… I…! That… that day… I …. I never!” Harris stammered. “Look… I… the clock..” Poor guy, he was losing it. “I heard, no! I mean, I saw…. saw… nggg!” Couldn’t keep his story straight. “Gwaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” Harris screamed, pulling at the collar of his shirt. “Shutupshutupshutup! I hate you!” Jack was almost offended. At least he hadn’t had anything thrown at him.

“It was him, I tell you!” Harris claimed, pointing wildly at John. “I saw him! He killed her, and he should burn! Burn! Give him death!” The crowd burst into an uproar even louder than the last time; Jack had to cover his ears. It took a few pounds of the gavel to get them silent again.

“Order! Order in the court I say!”

“Your honor, a moment please!” Hopper cried. “There isn’t a shred of evidence supporting the defense’s claims!”

“Mr. Harkness,” the judge rumbled.

“Yes, Your Honor?’ Jack responded quickly.

“You claim the sound the witness heard came from the clock,” the judge summed up. “Do you have any evidence?” Jack swallowed hard. The whole case was riding on this bit of evidence. He had to think it through carefully.

“Yes, Your Honor,” Jack said, eyes dancing over the evidence. Think, Harkness, think. How to prove that Harris heard the clock? Then it hit him. (Just like it had hit her.) “The sound Mr. Harris heard was definitely this clock. A fact which is clear if you simply try sounding the clock.” Jack laid one hand on the table. 

“Let’s sound the clock now, here in this court,” Jack proposed “Your Honor, may I have the clock?” The judge nodded, and grinning, Jack slipped a glove on his hand. He stepped out from behind his desk and moved toward the evidence table. “I ask the court to listen very carefully…” Jack reached out a finger and tilted the poodle’s head.

There was a beep and then the clock spoke. Or rather, it barked, “Ruff! It’s 8:25. Ruff!” 

“That’s certainly a strange way to announce the time,” the judge said, eyes wide. 

“Well, it is a poodle, after all,” Jack managed, holding back a laugh.

“So, we’ve heard the clock,” the judge said, solemn demeanor returned. “What are your conclusions, Mr. Harkness?” Jack grinned as he returned to his desk. His theory was right; now all he had to do was deliver the finishing blow.

“Mr. Hopper,” Jack said, addressing his opponent. Hopper arched an eyebrow. “Can you tell me what time it is now?” Hopper frowned but lifted his arm to check an expensive-looking watch.

“It’s 11:25... ack!” Hopper cried as he came to the same conclusion Jack had minutes ago. Jack grinned.

“As you can see, this clock is exactly three hours slow! Precisely the discrepancy between what Mr. Harris heard and the actual time of death!” Jack looked to the witness stand. “So, Mr. Harris… try to talk your way out of this one!” Harris was breathing heavily, one hand still clawing at his collar. He looked like a murderer caught out, exactly what he was.

“Hah. Hah, hah!” Harris laughed suddenly, shoulders still heaving. “You forgot one thing!” Uh oh, what was he talking about? “While it may seem like that clock _is_ running three hours slow, it proves nothing! How do you know it was running three hours late on the day of the murder!? If you can’t prove that, you don’t have a case!” 

Fuck. How did Harris know that? Hopper must have prepped him, that bastard. But he was right! How was he supposed to prove that? Dammit! He was so close! Jack raked a hand through his hair, trying to think.

“Mr. Harkness?” the judge said, tone carrying the slightest note of sympathy. “It seems you lack the critical evidence to support your claim.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Jack said begrudgingly.

“This means I can not let you indict the witness. Unfortunately…” the judge shook his head and slammed his gavel. “This ends the cross-examination of Mr. Bernie Harris.” Jack felt his heart sink.

“I come all the way down here to testify, and look what happens!” Harris complained. “They treat me like a criminal! A criminal! You lawyers are all slime.” 

Jack frowned, his hands braced on the table. He almost had him! He knew Harris did it; he just couldn’t prove it! Jack slammed his hands angrily against the wood. Fuck! John was going to kill him. Quite possibly literally. But there was nothing he could do about it now.

“Not so fast, Mr. Harris!” a voice cried suddenly. Everyone was stunned silent, and Jack turned to the woman at his side. She’d been quiet, letting Jack solve the mystery on his own, but now, in his time of need-

“Suzie!” Jack said. “I mean, Chief!” She grinned at him, a familiar and dangerous glint in her eye. She was always at her best when cornered, after all, like an animal howling in the night. Jack felt an odd mixture of awe and terror.

“Listen up, Harkness!” Suzie ordered. “Don’t throw this one away, not like this! Think!”

“But, Chief, it’s over,” Jack admitted. I can’t prove the clock was slow the day of the murder! Nobody can prove that!” Suzie blinked slowly.

“Um, well, yeah,” she said, a bit of snark covering her unease. She shook her head. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t still win! Try thinking outside the box.” Jack tried not to scoff. Such cliche advice, but cliches had to come from somewhere, he supposed. Suzie tapped a finger on the table. “Don’t waste time doubting the facts. Assume the clock is three hours slow and think through it.” Jack nodded, but Suzie wasn’t done.

“Ask yourself, ‘Why was the clock three hours slow’? Figure out the reason, and you’ll have your proof! Can you think of a reason the clock would be three hours slow?” Suzie asked. Jack just blinked at her.

“How am I supposed to know that!?” Jack stammered. Suzie smiled at him kindly.

“I know you can figure it out! There must be some evidence in the court record; something that can show why that clock was three hours slow!” Her voice dropped to a growl. “Find it, and he won’t have a foot to stand on.”

“Mr. Harkness?” the judge said. Jack flinched.

“Yes, Your Honor!” he responded, trying not to stammer.

“You say the clock was already running slow on the day of the murder. Do you have evidence to prove this?” Jack swallowed hard. This was it; all or nothing.

“Yes, Your Honor. I believe I have the evidence that can prove my claim!” Jack said, slamming a hand on the table.

“Hah!” Harris laughed. “I’d like to see _that_!”

“Let’s see this evidence that proves why the clock was running slow,” the judge said, ignoring Harris entirely. Jack nodded and stepped up to the evidence table. He picked up the victim’s passport and returned to his desk as he spoke.

“The victim had just returned from abroad the day before the murder. As we all know, the time difference between here and Tokyo is nine hours! When it’s 4:00 PM here, it’s 1:00 AM the next day there. The clock wasn’t three hours slow, it was nine hours fast!” Jack declared, finger extended dramatically. “The victim hadn’t reset her clock since returning home! That’s why the time you heard when you struck her dead in her flat was wrong!” Jack smirked at Harris. “Proof enough for you, Mr. Harris?” 

“Ngh!” Harris was breathing heavily. No, more than that, he was hyperventilating. He swooned and foamed at the mouth; he fell and was speechless. The gallery burst into a clamor, and Jack had to suppress his smile. He’d won.

“Order! Order, I say!” the judge called, banging his gavel thrice. But the clamor continued for a minute or two longer. (John’s laugher was unmistakable even through the din.) Once the courtroom had finally settled down, the judge cleared his throat.

“Well,” he said. “This case has certainly turned out differently than we all expected.” And thank fuck it did. “Mr. Hopper… your client?” Hopper flinched; Jack was delighted to note that he was sweating nervously.

“He…. er… he was arrested and has been taken away, Your Honor,” Hopper explained. 

“Very well,” the judge said with a nod. “Mr. Harkness?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Jack said, unable to contain the note of glee that infused the words.

“I have to say, I’m impressed,” the judge admitted. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone complete a defense so quickly and find the true culprit at the same time!” Jack beamed.

“Thank you, Your Honor.”

“At this point, this is only a formality, but this court finds the defendant, Mr. John Hart, _not guilty_.” The gallery burst into half-hearted applause, and Jack could just picture confetti raining down around them. Maybe he’d go buy a party popper. He was in the mood for harmless explosive fun. The judge smacked his gavel one final time.

“And with that, the court is adjourned.”

_It turned out that Bernie Harris was a common burglar. ‘Bernie’ wasn’t even his real name but a nickname he’d earned when he was twelve and burned down his neighbor’s shed with cigarettes. ‘Sean’ posed as a newspaper salesman to check and see when people were out of the house._

_That day, when John went to her flat, the victim wasn’t home. After he left, Harris let himself in to do his dirty work. While he was searching her place, the victim returned! Flustered, Harris grabbed the nearest blunt object he could find..._

**_August 3, 2:32 PM_ **

**_District Court_ **

**_Defendant Lobby No. 2_ **

Back in the relative solace of the lobby, Jack was pacing. He still had nervous adrenaline from the trial. He’d come so close to losing it all, but with Suzie’s help, he’d did it. He still couldn’t believe they’d won.

“Harkness!” Suzie said cheerfully, appearing before him. “ Good job in there.” She smiled lightly. “Congratulations!” Jack grinned and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Thanks, Chief. I owe it all to you,” Jack admitted. Suzie shook her head.

“Not at all,” she said, although Jack knew she was lying just a little. “You fought your own battles in there.” She smiled again, an actual, genuine smile. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen a trial end on such a satisfying note!” Jack was amazed. He’d never seen Suzie looking that happy. 

If she was that glad, then John must be ecstatic. Jack looked around and spotted him across the room. He’d borrowed a mobile and was talking fast and low. He noticed Jack watching and smiled; it didn’t meet his eyes. He finished his call, pressed the phone back on the bailiff he’d nicked it from, and crossed over to Jack.

“So, you actually were innocent,” Jack teased lightly. John pouted.

“And you almost fucked me over because of your ego,” John replied coldly. Jack flinched; okay, fair. “Your first trial? Almost gave me a bloody heart attack.” Jack could feel the cold rage in his words, but then he smiled and it melted like a snowflake in the palm of a hand. “You did good. Although, your boss totally saved your arse.”

“And yours as well,” Suzie said, smoothly sliding into their conversation. John nodded, conceding defeat. “But congratulations.” John shrugged.

“I’d have gotten out one way or another,” he said and then thankfully didn’t elaborate. His expression shifted into something almost sorrowful. “Not that it matters much anyway. She’s gone.”

“Hadn’t she broken up with you anyway?” Suzie pointed out.

“We were… having issues, yes,” John said uncomfortably. His shoulders tensed, and he shook his head. “But we were in love. At least I thought we were.” He sighed softly then turned his gaze on Suzie. “I wanted to give you this.” From seemingly out of nowhere, he pulled-

“Wait,” Suzie said. “Wasn’t this the evidence that…” John shook his head, poodle clock in hand.

“Actually, I made this clock for her. One for her; one for me.” Suzie took it from him and held it up to the light.

“You made a clock?” Jack said, voice bubbling with disbelief. John’s glare was deadly.

“You’re a lawyer,” he responded. Fair enough. When they were together, any thought of poodle clocks or lawyering would have seemed like a bad trip. They’d both changed, hopefully for the better.

“Well, thank you,” Suzie said. “I’ll keep it as a memento.” John nodded, but his expression said that he wouldn’t mind if she just dropped it in the bin. He wanted it gone. Suzie wandered away, and Jack took a step closer to his old partner.

“What actually happened between you?” Jack asked, his voice low. Despite their differences, Jack did actually care about John. Just not in the way John cared about him. John gave him a look but sighed.

“She’d said she was fine with my-” He made a vague hand gesture that Jack understood instantly. “I never kept anything from her; she knew I had a boyfriend when we started dating. But I guess there’s a difference between knowing and seeing. We had a fight, she said she needed some space, and then I never saw her again.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack said and was surprised to find he actually meant it. John shrugged.

“I think the worst part is that we never got to resolve our argument,” John said in a moment of stunning clarity. “I don’t know if she hated me and never wanted to see me again, or if she’d had the time to process and realized she was in the wrong.” He shrugged again. “And I never will.” Something clicked in Jack’s mind.

“I can’t tell you what she was thinking, John,” Jack said. “But I can tell you she did care about you.” John raised an eyebrow.

“What’s this, a lawyer trick? You pass the bar and suddenly you can talk to ghosts?” John said skeptically. Jack laughed.

“No. But I do know what the evidence is telling me.” He tapped John’s shoulder. “She took the clock you made for her with you to Tokyo.” For a second, his eyes flickered with hope, then it was gone.

“She probably just needed a clock,” John mumbled. Jack raised an eyebrow.

“You think so? It’s a pretty heavy clock to take traveling.” John didn’t say anything, and when Jack tried to meet his eyes, he looked away. “Make of it what you will.” There were a few moments of tense but not awkward silence, then John hugged him.

Jack was startled for a moment, then wrapped his arms around him. John relaxed into his grasp, and Jack held him tighter. He could feel the tension in John’s muscles start to ebb away. They hadn’t been a very huggy couple, but things had changed. John needed this. After a moment, John coughed and pulled away

“Thanks,” he said. “For everything.” Jack nodded, and after a moment’s hesitation, John leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Maybe see you around.” Before Jack could say anything else, he was gone.

“Well, I think our work here is done!” Suzie said, reappearing by Jack’s side. She smirked and offered Jack her arm. “Shall we be off?” Jack took it and grinned.

“Gladly,” he said, mocking her grandeur.

“Say, how about dinner. On me?” Suzie offered. “We’ll celebrate your first case.” Jack grinned and raised an eyebrow. She slapped his arm playfully. “Not a date, Harkness. You know men aren’t where I keep my eye.”

“A shame,” Jack sighed. “But I will gladly take you up on dinner.” 

“Perfect,” she said. “You can tell me about John.” Jack blanched. Had she seen them? “You were saying part of why you became a lawyer was because of him.” Jack let out a half-hearted chuckle.

“Right,” he said. “Maybe that’s a story for another night. When we have a little more time and a lot more alcohol.” Suzie laughed as they stepped out into the late-afternoon sun. 

And so, his first trial came to a close. All in all, it was a success. Even though he was pretty sure John wasn’t going to pay him. Unless you counted the clock he gave Suzie.

He didn’t know it then, but that clock was soon going to be at the center of another incident. And his promise to tell Suzie about him and John… would be one promise that he wouldn’t be able to keep.


End file.
